


The Chronicles of Andonikos

by aea2o5



Series: The Wars of Peteia [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Devils, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Mythology, Original Universe, POV Original Character, Succubi & Incubi, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aea2o5/pseuds/aea2o5
Summary: Andonikos has fought many battles, and prevented many more. Now, after centuries of aiding adventurers, nations, and commoners alike, he sits down to weave his magics and tell his story...





	1. Prologue: Setting the Scene

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://imgur.com/gIVc7mZ)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> I got the map to work, yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this rolling around in my head for almost a year now, ever since my friend chose me to be their DM. All of the characters (unless otherwise stated) are of my own creation. The same goes for the world I created and named. Any similarities are purely coincidental, as I only write what comes to me, being inspired only by the Dungeon Master's Guide and the Monster Manual.
> 
> As always, comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated, and off we go!

The adventurers ceased conversing and turned to gaze in the door’s direction as it swung open. Andonikos, long of beard and years, strode in, followed by a younger-looking man – at least, he looked like one.

This second man had a pale face, long black hair, nails which were slightly longer than normal, and pointed ears. He wore fine clothes, the finest the adventurers had ever seen in all their time in the Hidden Valley where Andonikos dwelt. What threw them off the most, however, was when he smiled, revealing larger than usual canines.

“A-Andonikos… is that a vampire?” Signe, the human wizard, asked.

“Excellent observation, Signe,” Andonikos chuckled. “You are, indeed, correct. This is my friend Karl von Konstantinovich. We have been working together for, oh, since my prime adventuring days.”

“It has been a long time, indeed, my friend,” Karl agreed, his baritone voice rolling pleasantly over the adventurers.

“Why is a vampire here in this protected valley?” Ivar Nylund, the stout dwarven fighter, growled.

“What of it? We are not all evil,” Karl challenged.

“I have yet to meet a vampire with good intentions, _friend_ ,” Ivar baited.

“We are more than the parts that make us. In the future, please remember that I have worked for years – sometimes centuries – with all of the friends you will meet in my sanctuary. I trust Karl enough that one of his resting places is near my own bedroom.”

“Very well.” Ivar subsisted, content with how Andonikos had handled the situation.

“As I was saying as we walked in, Andonikos, there have been rumors of a Succubus in Salonika,” Karl resumed.

Andonikos seemed to freeze for half a second. “Are there any reports of a name?”

“I seem to recall a mention of Gulnara…?”

“Gulnara Saltanat?”

“Aye, that’s the one.”

Andonikos thought for a moment before speaking. “My friends, would you leave us for a moment? You may go to the refectory; Karl and I will join you presently.”

After the adventurers filed out, Karl spoke again. “That name is known to you, I see.”

“Yes, a long time ago, in my youth, when the world was younger. I was foolish and gullible, and I still bear the scars of our meeting.” Andonikos made a vague motion towards his mouth, and Karl understood immediately.

“This is new to me. I had not known that you had a… history… with devils.”

“As much as I wish I did not, I cannot deny it. I had thought that I killed Gulnara. It disturbs me to know that she has found a gateway back to Peteia once more…” He fell silent once more. “Shall we now proceed to the refectory? Afterwards I shall have a most important story to tell.”

“Of course,” Karl replied, as they exited the room.

“Excellent. The story involves your own, you know.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes. The story of how the thread of your life was bound up with mine. This will be the story of my life as a guardian of the Great Peace.”

They entered the refectory, ate their meal (a simple one, as was Andonikos’ wont), and then Andonikos herded the adventurers into the Stone Chamber, a room deep underground, where the earth warmed the stone from which the chamber was hewn. It was here where all of Andonikos’ sagas were told, and it was a rare telling where strange magics were not used to aid in the telling.

When all were seated comfortably, Andonikos stood before them, gathering his thoughts for a final time before beginning. His silver beard glistened and shimmered in the torchlight, and he appeared taller, more powerful, although all present knew that it was merely a trick of the light.

At last, Andonikos was ready. “I have a story for you. I do not give it to you lightly, and you will be the only ones to have heard it in full, perhaps ever. I am old. I know I don’t look it,” he added jokingly, “but I have passed my eighteen-hundredth year. My people, the Magikoi, often live not long past fifteen hundred years, and I can feel that my end is approaching. I wish to give a full recollection before I pass on to the Great Beyond.

“I was born in what is now the Kingdom of Soncia, on the banks of the Addelstann River. My first eighty years were spent learning all forms of magic, armed and unarmed combat, many different trades, and numerous languages in as many places as would allow me to stay and learn. When I turned eighty-one, I returned to my village, as all of my people do on their eighty-first birthdays, and there I lived until I was one hundred years of age. This is the age when many of us go out into the larger world to make our own futures, as it is the equivalent of a human’s fifteenth birthday, to put it into perspective.

“I was such a one, and as I had applied myself more diligently to my studies than most, I had accumulated more knowledge – and therefore power – and there were beings who desired my service, although I was young and thought that nothing could ever happen to me, as most young people of all races believe. This is as much the story of my folly as it is of my success. I only ask that you pay attention and learn from what I am about to tell you…


	2. Primal Folly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andonikos is of a custom race and a custom class, so I will do my best to explain abilities he has in a way that integrates with the story. If something doesn't fit, I will put in a footnote.

You must understand that a Magikos is not infallible, and I least of all. We are often the means of our own destruction, as much as it pains me to admit it. Yes, I have lived longer than most of my people, but that means that I have also made more mistakes than the average Magikos.

I ought now to tell you of the Succubus who troubles me so sorely. Her name, you may recall, is Gulnara Saltanat. Normally the utterance of a powerful fiend’s name will draw them towards you, but I have protections which few with less power than Asmodeus, Lord of the Nine Hells, himself may breach without first slaying me. As such, I shall speak their names with caution, but not fear. Regardless, I believed Gulnara Saltanat to be permanently driven from this world, because I personally severed the connection to the Nine Hells from which she came. How did all this come to pass? It shall now be made known to you.

A mere two months after I left my village – it was called Dehaikalon, and has since been destroyed – I stayed in the Sleepy Sparrow inn for a week. The evening before I left, I saw one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen walk in. Being a young man (I use man for simplicity’s sake), I couldn’t help but stare. As I was young, I had not yet developed my True Insight, which is how I appear to see everything within twenty feet of me. If I had, I would have seen through the glamour she was using to disguise her wings and tail, and this story would already be different.

As it was, she walked up to me, drawn, as I later found out, by the aura of power that I radiated. At the time I thought it was because of my strength and beauty of body, modest though they were. That final night at the Sleepy Sparrow was… how shall I say it? It was a fiery night. I shall leave it at that.

Pretending to love me, she told me her name was Rebekkah. I, proud of my scholarship and abilities, was easy prey, and I am forced to admit that I fell in love with her, as many before me have done, to their ruin. We wandered together for five months, needed no-one but the other for company.

One day, Rebekkah came up to me as I was cooking, and spoke to me about a surprise I had in store for me.

“What surprise?” I asked.

“A surprise you will always love and cherish,” she replied.

“That doesn’t tell me anything… That could be any number of things.”

“It’s a surprise all for you.” She continued to torment me, and by now, her avoidance of mentioning herself was beginning to draw my suspicion.

“But what is it? Just tell me, I’m begging you!”

“If you insist… You are going to be a father!”

I don’t know if I was more fearful or enthusiastic. Certainly I was shocked, to say the least, for I was unsure if a Magikos could procreate with a member of a different race, because of all the magic we are eternally surrounded with. That night we had a celebratory coupling, but as the next month wore on, it became a less and less frequent event, until the final week contained no such happening. The next thing I knew, she was gone.

It was the first of the new month, and I awoke to find her not lying beside me. I cast my eyes about the bedroll, and there were no footprints in the sand – wait, why was there sand? We had fallen asleep within eyeshot of the Iron Foothills… I looked to the horizon, and saw nothing but sand as far as I could see, save for some mountains barely breaking the monotony to the south.

At that moment, I came to my senses. I realized that Rebekkah was, firstly, not the human she had said she was; secondly, that she had been steering us southwards ever since we left the Sleepy Sparrow; thirdly, that she had transported the campsite to here, the middle of the desert while I slept; and fourthly – and this hurt the most – that she had done it all deliberately, intending all along to abandon me here.

With that knowledge filling my heart with a terrifying example of uncontrolled rage, I swore off all female contact, unleashing the mightiest magics I knew at the time upon the defenseless granules of sand around me. When I came to my senses, I realized that my vow would be impossible to keep, but the magic I had realized had burned it into my being, and that I could not turn back on it. Thus began my life of celibacy.

I started to return south-east to civilization (as it was the closest direction), and on my way I gained my first experiences of life-or-death combat. I ran into a group of Yuan-ti Purebloods, the most human-looking of those heartless snake-people; as well as desert lions and human bandits. I emerged from it all onto the sweet, sweet, grassy plains of what was even back then the Kingdom of Kama a changed man, changed and scarred. There were the physical scars, which I bore as proudly as my broken spirit could bear. The emotional scars, still reside with me, manifesting as an inability to form more than brotherly relationships.

When I returned to civilization (the Kamites were, at the time, not openly hostile to the Magikoi), I asked directions to the city of Kama itself, and from there began my journey back to Dehaikalon. I travelled first by sea, up the coast to the delta of the Addelstan River. From there I continued on foot until, by mischance or fate, I found myself resting at the Sleepy Sparrow for the night once more.


	3. Soncia

I was rather distraught over having to stay at the Sleepy Sparrow once more; it brought back too many painful memories – memories which had once been happy ones. However, I told myself that I had better start getting over Rebekkah, because otherwise all the work I had put into returning home would be for naught, as I would have wasted away.

Fortunately for me, I was saved from languishing in the depression that had begun to overtake me by the timely arrival of my brother, Otokarn. He talked the shadows away from my mind and heart, and together we returned to Dehaikalon.

_“Wait, Otokarn?” Nil-galad inquired. “Isn’t he the ruler of Zwandia?”_

_“No, that is Otokar. My brother’s name was Otokarn, with an ‘n’ at the end,” Andonikos answered._

Otokarn was eight years my junior, and we were as close as two brothers could be. He had wanted to study with me, but our mother had decreed that Otokarn should stay at home. The loss of one son to the outside world was enough for her, it seemed.

He told me that he had received a dream, wherein I was in danger. This dream persuaded my mother to allow him to search for me, on the condition that he return to Dehaikalon after a full two score of days had passed, regardless of whether he had found me or not. We ran into one another a month after Otokarn had set out, and we resolved to enjoy our ten remaining days in the great wide world, instead of immediately returning home.

To that end, we decided to see the sights of Soncia, then just a city-state with a reputation for the arts situated on a large peninsula created by the Addelstann. This was one-thousand, seven-hundred and eighty-six years ago. What is now the Kingdom of Soncia was largely a loose confederation of city-states bound by a largely meaningless treaty of mutual defense. This was before the Grand Archipelagate left their islands to claim cities on Koriand’r, before the Selentikan Empire was reduced to the status of a dependency, before Anderra became a republic. This was when Zwandia was first expanding from its nomadic origins, when the Empire of Namfeld held the entirety of the continent of Zara as well as parts of the Kingdom of Kama.

It was a much different world back then. I hold that it was yet more dangerous then than it is now, and perhaps you shall understand why as I proceed. I shall see if I am possessed of a map from back then. I will show you, if I do, for they are few and far between.

If you have never been to Soncia – the city itself, that is – then you will never be able to fully understand what a grand adventure it was. Have any of you ever read Braduccio’s fantasy novels set in the imaginary capital of Emperor Alexios, Constantinople(1)? I have the entire series in my library, if you are interested. Those books alone contain the only comparison to Soncia as it was when I was young. The city was a flourishing metropolis, shimmering spires reaching toward the skies, full of libraries, museums, theatres, academies. The lover of learning could never rest until he had come to Soncia.

Enter Otokarn and myself. In the eight days we had allotted to spend in the city (our ten, less one day to travel there and one to return to Dehaikalon), we must have visited four academies of magic, as well as numerous libraries. We even saw a production of _The Drow and the Elf-maid_ , which has since been unilaterally banned by all the nations save Calondum, which is already largely removed from the dynamics of Koriand’r.

In fact, Calondum is the only state which does not use Common Time reckoning. You are all familiar with it, as this is the year 2149 C.T. Otokarn and I, in our sojourn to Soncia, learned that the year 0 C.T. is given as the date for the founding of Soncia. I have since been able to confirm that worthy scholar’s assertion. We visited in the year 363 C.T., and I returned a great many times over the centuries, the last time being in 1137 C.T. It has changed much, and I wish to return again sometime before I leave this world.

But I digress. Otokarn and I regretfully left the city and returned home. I was burdened (by which I mean it was only a physical burden) by the beginnings of my library – Soncia contained a large selection of bookstores, as well – and Otokarn, who had developed a flair for the dramatic while I was away under tutelage, carried some rather interesting little toys for the charlatan: stones that created bright light when smashed; sand that allowed one to bend metal; and two metal balls which, when brought near one another, mimicked the sound of a thunderstorm. The last was the most fascinating, as the violence of the storm increased the closer the two were brought together.

When we returned home, my mother showered us both with hugs and kisses – she was always of the emotional sort, which is unusual for a Magikos. We tend to be more stone-faced and emotionally grounded. My mother was not that by any stretch, but we endured it because we loved her.

With my return home ended my first sally into the greater world. I resolved to remain in or near Dehaikalon and live my life in secluded scholasticism, leaving only to acquire the means to further my academic pursuits. Fate, however, had a different plan. I shall relate the confounding of my plan tomorrow evening.

_With that, Andonikos concluded his speech, and the Stone Chamber was left to remain empty for the hours before the following evening._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) See what I did there?


	4. Magikos

_The second day saw nothing out of the ordinary. No real comment relating to what the entire party had learned about their benefactor the night before was given, and the day passed by without event. That evening, they all gathered in the Stone Chamber once again._

_“Is everybody ready?” Andonikos addressed his listeners. “Yes? Very well. A few of you know what I am,” he nodded to Karl, Nil-galad, and Ignis, “but for the rest of you: Signe, Ivar, Bahman, Ograk, Sigismund, Ariq, Remiel, and Asteria, allow me to explain…_

I am of the Magikoi. We are few in number, fewer now than we were when I was young, but great in power. I do not wish to boast, but there are few, now, who have the strength to best me. Indeed, I shall later relate to you of the time when Asmodeus tried to force his way into this world. I am older now, and recognize my foolishness. I see your awed faces. Think nothing of that until it is time. Many centuries lie between where I left off and when that fearsome battle occurred.

We are born in the same form as a human, although the shortest among us stands among the average height of men. We are steeped in magic, and a nearly-newborn baby can summon lights to keep it company – although little else. You must understand, we were created to wield magic on behalf of the gods, and for millennia various gods have used us as pawns in their games. Magic is all we have ever known, and it is both a blessing and a curse. We have power, but many – gods and mortals alike – seek to use us for their own ends. This is not to say that we are all good, for that would be a most distasteful untruth. You shall hear more about the Magikoi in this tale, and not just because I am in it.

My village was one of three, at the time of my birth. Now it is one of seven that have been destroyed since the beginning of my people. There are 4 remaining Magikoi settlements, but you will not deem me selfish for keeping their locations to myself. We hide our homes from the outside world, for only those of us who willingly leave will then come to harm. Our parents do not allow us to leave the safety of the village until adolescence, which is around our fiftieth year (as it varies by individual). Then we leave until our coming of age at eighty-one years.

During our adolescence, we are cast out entirely on our own, left to survive with our inherent magics and any skills that we are able to pick up. These thirty-odd years are the most formative years of our lives, and as I spent mine in good company – with clerics, paladins, monks, and the like – my moral compass froze pointing northward, strong enough to withstand the pressures of travel between worlds. Again, that is an adventure for a much later date.

There is a ceremony on our eighty-first birthday, and the entire village shows up to give gifts and advice, as well as to hear what the burgeoning adult has decided to do with their life. When an adult has chosen an occupation, they are expected to remain in that position for at least several centuries, although we all aspire to spend our entire adult lives in one occupation. Of course, sometimes we make the wrong decision and have to change, but that is a cause of personal shame which those few bear for the rest of their lives.

On my coming of age, I received many gifts, a few of which I have kept (or, rather, survived with me) through the centuries: the mithril longsword hanging above the door to my bedchamber, the belt I am wearing, and the silver ring which I bear on my left hand. As you may have guessed, they are all magical items. The sword is a Defender, the belt is a Belt of Dwarvenkind (how else do you think I maintain this beard?), and the ring is a Ring of Water Walking. I see some of you looking shocked. You are correct: these are magnificent gifts, and all have saved my life at least once. I can only guess that my village knew that I was destined for great things, and they decided to do their best to help me along.

For advice, I was told that there would be those who want my power, who had the bonus of being able to overcome it, and that I needed to be constantly vigilant. I was told that a second weapon in my hand was almost as good as a companion at my back. I was told that no matter how much I might wish to defend myself, the one who attacks is the one who wins. I was told that a problem between men is easily solved by a fight before several mugs of beer. I was told many, many things – too many to relate here – but most importantly, I was told that my magic would be what I would live – or die – by. That one I took to heart, and it has yet to be proven wrong.

Finally, the moment came for me to pronounce my destiny. After my… experience… with Rebekkah, I had been hesitant to bind myself to the outside world, but my villages’ apparent overwhelming confidence in me (evidenced by their bestowing of magic items) eventually convinced me. I chose to go out into the world and serve the greater good, no matter the cost to myself. A crackle of thunder sounded after I made my pronouncement, which we all took as a sign that the gods favored my decision.

That evening, after the festivities, Otokarn brought me a present of his own. I had told him of how my northern clothes had brought nothing but trouble in the desert Rebekkah had stranded me in, and he, ever the caring brother, had found a set of Glamoured Studded Leather for me. I was too shocked to ask him where he had found it, but he explained that it had belonged to our father before he… developed… full-body paralysis while I was away from Dehaikalon during my adolescence, and that our mother had wanted me to have it. I embraced him fiercely, thanking him for his gift, before spending the night attuning myself to my new magic items in preparation for my departure.

_“Do you still have the Glamoured Studded Leather?” Ariq, the rogue, questioned._

_Andonikos said nothing as his robes morphed into a set of leather armor with small brass studs all over it, then morphed back into the blue and white robes he always wore – or, rather, appeared to wear. They all sat, amazed, all save Karl, who laughed, having known about the glamour for some time now. Afterwards, Andonikos sent them all to bed._


	5. First Kalatians

_“It has been brought to my attention,” Andonikos said when they had all gathered together again, “that I have neglected to really talk about my family. I am not the best storyteller, by any means, so you will have to bear with me as I fill in holes I have previously left._

My mother’s name was Anastasia, pronounced ‘ah-nah-stah-see-uh’, which is, I am aware, not a common pronunciation; her occupation was that of a weaver-woman: she excelled at making baskets, rugs, blankets… you name it, she could make it. She was the kindest woman I have had the honor of knowing. My father’s name was Heraklius, and he was a warrior. He was unlike me in that he was more of a mercenary, whereas I am not. He was, however, inclined to distribute largesse. His armor was one of the few expensive items he owned, even before he was paralyzed whilst fighting against a Sahuagin attack in the Grand Archipelagate.

As for siblings, well, I have only one brother – Otokarn – as you know. Mention will be made of my two cousins, however. Their names are Theodosius and Basileios. They lived in a larger settlement, and are the sons of my mother’s sister, Justiniana. My mother and aunt were very close, so my family often visited them in their town, Sahrikalon, when my father was home. It is no wonder, then, that Otokarn and I became rather close to my cousins. Theodosius was always the one making sure that everything we had was as evenly distributed as possible, and Basileios was always trying to act like he was the responsible one. All I will say now is that Theodosius went on into politics, and that Basileios became a personal bodyguard of sorts. So much, then, for my family.

I shall now begin my proper story. I have already related what happened, in summary, what happened when I first left Dehaikalon. Now I shall delve more into the details of what happened after, and of the consequences of my actions. You know me – save for Karl – as an almost all-powerful being. I tell you now that even the actions of the gods themselves have consequences even they cannot foresee. I am no god, and as such am even more prone to shortcomings.

I had figured out that Rebekkah was no human woman, but beyond that, I knew nothing. I determined, therefore, to find her. In the beginning of my search I held onto an idea of finding her and demanding answers: Why had she tricked me? Why had she left me? To this end I left Dehaikalon after bidding farewell to everyone, knowing full well that it would be a long time before I would return.

I set out with the magic of my vow of celibacy still burning strongly within me, and well aware of the magical presence of my newly gifted items. I felt prepared for anything. If any of the Archdevils would have risen from the Nine Hells, I felt that I could confront them. I couldn’t obviously, but I was possessed of a youthful confidence, the sort all young people have before they face the loss of a dream or a love, when they believe themselves to be invincible. I had already lost a loved one, but I had replaced her with a quest of vengeance, and that also burned within me, giving me the purpose I needed to continue living.

I started travelling west, towards Soncia, for it was the way I knew the best. After three days, I came across a hamlet near a small forest, where I traded the telling of several folk-tales for a room for the night in the small tavern. The next morning found me prepared to leave, for I knew that I could never hope to find any one individual if I couldn’t cover a lot of ground. I also knew that I couldn’t dream of finding _her_ if I couldn’t sense the magical aura I was certain she would give off. As such, I had decided to start practicing, extending my consciousness outward, until I was certain that nobody in the hamlet was possessed of any sort of magical capabilities. That isn’t to say that nobody there could wield magic, because that is not true. I only mean to say that there were no magical creatures or persons currently able to wield magic.

I retracted my consciousness back unto myself, and left the tavern, leaving a few coins to show my appreciation for the hospitality. I was not an hour out of the hamlet, however, when I smelled smoke upon the air. Not the sort that one gets from a camp or bonfire. This was the smell of arson. I rushed back to the hamlet – which was being put to the torch. A band of armed men was running about, slaying those whom they caught escaping from their flaming homes.

I drew my Defender and launched myself into the fray, my armor morphing into the garb of a Kamite soldier (it was the first uniform I thought of; I was simply trying to not look like one of the bandits). I caught three of the bandits by surprise, slaying two before the third could react. He stepped forward to strike at me, hurling curses for the deaths of his comrades; his foot slipped on a patch of blood, his clumsy sword strike was easily knocked aside, and I slipped my sword into his chest while he was still falling. He was dead before he even hit the ground.

All I was really hoping for was to distract the bandits enough so that the villagers could save their settlement, but I ended up slaying all twenty-seven of the bandits. All twenty-seven… I have killed far more since then, and these were not the first to meet their ends at my hand, but it was the first time I had felt the unique sensation of battle, and it shames me a bit to acknowledge that I rather enjoyed it – not the killing, but the feelings that accompany it.

The hamlet could not be saved. I helped the inhabitants remove everything we could from the burning buildings, and then I promised to protect them on their way to Kalatio, which was then the capital of one of the Soncian city-states (in whose jurisdiction the hamlet fell). There, they would petition the governor for funds and materials to rebuild their village or to build a new one elsewhere.

It was a two-day journey north, but it took nearly a week for the hundred-odd villagers to make the journey. We were never attacked, but there were frequent rest stops, and we were all burdened down by supplies, valuables, and the like. I had morphed my armor into the regalia of a Kalatian guard, and was consequently forced to fend off questioning villagers who were inquiring as to why my uniform had changed. I told them that I possessed several uniforms, having served in several armies, and I wanted to present a friendly coat of arms to the guards at Kalatio.

When we arrived six days later, my ‘uniform’ assured us entry into the city, and the headman, the tavern-keeper, and myself went to go see the governor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kalatio is the Soncian border city on the north side of the Addelstann River, between the river and the mountains, if anybody is wondering.


	6. Folk Hero

“To be clear, you’re saying that your homes were burned down by bandits? And you want me to pay for you to rebuild them?” the Governor, a short, fat man dressed in fine robes questioned.

“Yes, my lord,” the headman – Jonathan – replied, his head bowed in subservience.

The Governor’s stubby fingers steepled and tapped together as he considered the tale he had just been told. “And in return for these funds, what will you offer to me? It will be a while before your hamlet would be able to raise taxes, and we produce enough food already, so, really, there is no real return for this investment… You see, the State must make a profit. I’m sure you understand,” he condescendingly replied.

“My lord, with all due respect, the tax revenue you would gain would far surpass the investment you would make now, given time,” Jorgen, the tavern-keeper, offered.

“How long, though? Too long, I say. The investment would have to be at least one gold piece per capita, and how much do I make in taxes? About one silver piece per family per year. That brings it to ten years to break even, counting only the head of the households, more for their dependencies. And then there are extra expenses, such as new tools for your blacksmith, food and drink to restock your tavern, extra wood to build new stores, beyond what is needed for the homes. All in all, I do not believe it to be a sound investment. My answer is no,” the Governor replied. His beady eyes glinted with the thought of all the money he thought he was saving.

I was outraged. It is a ruler’s duty to provide for his or her people, not to refuse to help rebuild their destroyed towns. “Would you give them a few gold pieces to pay for supplies for the return journey, and perhaps leave to fell trees near the ruins?” I supplicated.

The Governor thought for a while. “You are proposing that I simply allow you to buy the supplies that you need, and that I allow you to fell the trees you would need to rebuild? And that you would do it on your own?”

“Yes, my lord,” I replied, still furious.

“Very well. I shall give you five gold pieces, and leave to fell as many trees as you see fit,” the Governor proclaimed. “Scribe, bring these men five gold pieces from the treasury.”

Thus reimbursed, the three of us returned to where the other villagers were waiting for us, to be met with various cries of “How much did he give us?” “Does he offer his support?” and the like.

Jonathan stood firmly, well aware of the displeasure he was about to provoke. “My lord, the governor, has agreed to give us five gold pieces–” he was cut off by angry muttering before forging ahead “–but at least he is allowing us to rebuild our homes.”

“And is he providing labor to help us?” came a voice from the crowd.

Sensing Jonathan’s wavering position, I stepped forward to help him. “No, but I promise to return with you and help you rebuild your homes myself.”

“And what good are you? You’re a good fighter, as we all know, but what good is a warrior at building?” This was from a different voice.

“I believe that all who destroy ought to know how to create. Where I am from, we are all builders first, and demolishers second,” I confidently put forward.

It took me a little while to convince them that I intended to help them all the way to the end, and that I did not require or desire any payment. When they had realized the inevitable, however, they welcomed me with open arms in the way only simple folk can, and we prepared to return to the hamlet’s ruins.

Two days later, we returned, and Jonathan organized those fit for manual labor into four parties: one to clear the rubble, one to fell trees, one to shape the lumber, and one to assemble the buildings. Those who could not handle the more physical tasks were set to more domestic tasks. I can tell you for a fact, if you are interested, that there were a fair few women who were equal to the men in strength, and Jorgen, along with several other men, preferred to try their hand at the less-physical work. Adversity truly brings out the best in everyone.

I spent my time doing a bit of everything each day. I would help to fell a tree, then bring it over to the shapers and help shape it. Thereafter, I would put each of the timbers into place in whichever building we were working on that day; we were always working on several structures at once.

Now, this all sounds very well and good, but nothing is ever entirely smooth sailing. We had our arguments and even a few fights (adversity also brings out the worst in people), but progress continued, nevertheless, even after the one time the Governor, for some gods-forsaken reason, tried to renege upon our agreement. To be fair, I should have asked for a written contract. I did not, however, and so I was once again forced to resort to violence.

“These lands and forests belong to the State. You have no right to be felling these trees,” the clerk informed us while his guards looked intimidatingly at the villagers.

“We have every right. The Governor gave us his permission to rebuild this village. I was there. I negotiated the deal,” I replied, peeved.

“There is no contract in the record. As such, your word means nothing, peasant,” the clerk told me, triumphantly.

My hand unconsciously dropped to the hilt of my sword, and I cast Command on the clerk, trying to make him go away without having to slaughter him and his guards. “Leave,” I commanded, but he just laughed and remained in his place.

“I _will_ rebuild this village, whether the Governor wants me to or not,” I then tell the clerk. “Should we become homeless? Do you want your towns to become overcrowded with refugees? I should think not.”

“You speak well, for a peasant, but I do not make the rules,” the clerk laughed. “But I _can_ command you to cease this activity, unless you want to return to Kalatio in chains?”

I drew my sword and brought it level with the clerk’s throat in one smooth motion. “I will not be doing either of those. Instead, you and your men will leave, we will rebuild our village, and nobody will be hurt.”

“Treason,” the clerk spat. “Threatening a gubernatorial official! Men, get him!”

Four of his six guards moved forward to confront me. I took a step forward, away from the villagers behind me, and summoned a Sword Burst, which felled one of the guards. The other three, surprised, stumbled backwards, allowing me to remove the throat of the closest one with my sword and another step forward.

“Surrender,” I told them, mostly out of academic curiosity. One turned and fled, while the fourth – the most professional-looking of the bunch – rushed at me. I let the one go, turning my attention to the other. We crossed blades while everyone else watched.

“I will _not_ be stopped,” I told him, slashing at his thigh.

“Over my dead body,” he replied, stabbing at my chest.

“That can be arranged,” I grunted, punctuating the statement with a jab at his wrist.

The duel lasted a little while longer, the two of us going back and forth, trading blows and giving wound for wound, until he overextended himself, probably in hopes of catching me off guard. Instead, he caught my sword between his ribs, and that was the end of him.

Following my victory, the clerk proved much more amenable, drawing up a contract (my being able to read kept him honest), signing it, and promising to deliver it to the Governor. After that, we didn’t have any more trouble, and we finished the construction two months after we had begun it. Bless them, they named it Balnor, which is the name I had given to them (back then I saw no point in giving out my real name. Only a few receive it now, in fact). After the hamlet had been re-dedicated, I left them, much to Jonathan’s sorrow. I promised to return as soon as I could, however, and it was a promise I told myself that I would keep as I headed off once more into the unknown of adventuring life.


	7. A Circular Travel

I decided to head south, as I had endured quite enough of the more northern climes of my adolescence. I had no desire to visit Kama, however, due to my recent… excursion... into the desert. The city of Kama, itself, was in the hands of the Kingdom of Selentika, which was a place I wished to avoid, because I had heard some tales of their... shall we say, interesting… culture. Not that the Kamites were (or are) much better, with their second-classing of women. But all that is not important right now. I decided to visit the continent of Zara, the second-largest continent after Koriand’r. At that time it was completely controlled by the Empire of Namfeld, and Lond-Girith didn’t even exist, except as minorities.

I should speak a little of Namfeld. As long as there has been history, there has been Namfeld. Soncia may be the beginning of Common Time, but Namfeld has always placed its name in large script across any large-scale map. I am inclined to think that humans began in Zara, and spread from there to all of the other landmasses. As humans have a tendency to create institutions, they created Namfeld, and it has been here ever since. There is evidence to suggest that the capital city, Feldsparr, has been around for at least 1400 years before Soncia was founded. As for its people, well, they have always made excellent diplomats. As a rule, they are well-spoken, and prefer diplomacy to warfare. Perhaps you will have a need to go there yourself one day, and then you will see for yourself.

In heading south, I chose to pass through what was then the Confederation of Anderra, a cultural grouping around what they call the Land of Lakes. There, elves and humans coexist, and they banded together to protect themselves from Namfeld’s imperial designs.

Anderran hospitality is never to be turned down, and when I made mention of my intention to travel south, some kind fisher-folk agreed to bring me down to Andumenos, the capital city, when they went there to sell the best of their catches at the monthly market. I readily accepted, and I spent a week in the fishing village, which was situated on the stretch of river between the northern lake and the central lake. I suppose I shall have to find a map of that region, as well. That reminds me: I found a map drawn in 350 C.T., which I suppose will quench our geographical interest, for the time being.

_Andonikos produced the map, handing it to his listeners so that they could pass it around while he continued talking._

This is a Selentikan map, and the man wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about place-names, but it will have to do, as I do not have a better one.

Regardless, from Andumenos I bought passage on a sailing vessel bound for Feldsparr itself, after, of course, stopping at all of the other major cities along the way. I intended to travel all the way to Feldsparr, however, determining that I could go anywhere from that crossroad.  
In the end, I spent about a month in that city, visiting its repositories of knowledge, before deciding that I didn’t like the place all that much. I admit that the tactful speech was nice at first, but it began to grind upon me after a week or two. I even felt myself longing for the bluntness of Soncia, where my own formality was the exception, and not the norm.

To that end, I quitted my studies, said farewell to the few acquaintances I had made, and bought passage back to Koriand’r, it mattered not where at the time. Looking back, it is fortunate that I ended up boarding a ship sailing to the city of Kama, for it was there that I found a map, which you see before you now, sitting in a bookstore. I purchased it, for I reckoned that it would greatly aid my travels, but I never thought to mark it with names I discovered which the cartographer knew not of, and for that I apologize for any confusion. The names he has are correct, but they are few in number.

I spent a few days in Kama, then decided to walk north through Sayfa, then the capital of Kama (after the Selentikans conquered Kama), back up to visit the city of Soncia once again. I was still enamored with that city, and I also wanted to regain my bearings to stop by the village of Balnor, as I had promised to do.

However, as often happened in the Soncia of old, I spent far too much time there than I had intended. I spent more time there than I had spent on the entire rest of my journey since I left Balnor, which is to say about four months. Something about that place made people stop and gaze about in amazement. I have already described it, so I shall refrain from doing so again, as it had not changed even a little bit in the time between my visits. In the end, however, with winter approaching, I decided to discover how my little village (as I affectionately referred to Balnor) had done through the year – I was astonished to realize that it had already been more than a year since I had left it. I spent the winter in Soncia, leaving as soon as the spring thaws had banished the frosts, bringing with me a mule laden with supplies and trinkets, which I had either won through various means, purchased, or made myself, in order to give them as gifts to the villagers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the map Andonikos passed around:  
> [](http://imgur.com/HrDQcF8)
> 
> My apologies for the poor quality.


	8. Discovering a Home

Travelling west from Soncia to Balnor, I was forced out of my way by a most violent thunderstorm. It drove me and my poor mule northward, into the foothills of the mountains, where I found shelter and waited out the rest of the storm, which, as far as I may tell, lasted at least another two days. When it finally cleared, I emerged from the little cave I had found, and headed off in what I thought to be the best direction. After several hours’ walk, I came across a stream which had burst its banks due to the storm. I, being curious, decided to follow it upstream, farther into the foothills, to see where it sprang from in the mountains. In retrospect, I would have only lost about two days’ worth of travel on the route to Balnor if I had gone downstream, as it would have inevitably led to the Addelstann, but my interest was piqued. I told myself that I would see the stream’s source and then continue on to my little village.

It was rough going for part of the way, with the stream winding between steep hills and through dense thickets, and it became clear to me that I was going where few people – if any at all – had gone before. Eventually, the hills gave way to mountains, although I did not much notice, concerned as I was with finding the stream’s source. I continued through, the stream always running from before me, twisting and carefully picking its way between the feet of the mountains.

At one point, the stream appeared to be coming from a cave. Thinking that my objective was near, I left my mule (tied up, but with plenty of room to graze) and entered the cave. It was then that I saw that the cave was not, in fact, a cave. It was, instead, a tunnel, and the stream’s source was somewhere beyond. Stooping low to fit through the small passage – presumably made by the stream over millennia – I at last emerged into a vast green valley, ranged on both sides by mountains stretching off into the distance as far as I could see. I pulled out my map and realized that I had stumbled upon the area which the cartographer had labelled “Terra Incognita”, perhaps assuming that it contained mountains all the way through. That meant that I was the first person to ever set foot in this place. Given its difficult approach and near-invisible entrance, I christened it the Hidden Valley. That, then, is the tale of how I discovered this very place wherein we live.

Many things were rushing through my head, but the first idea was to make this place my home: surrounded by mountains, if I kept it a secret, it would provide a secure place from which to base my operations. It would be a home all my own, where I could do as I pleased, with no-one to disturb me. Forgetting about my intended visit to Balnor, I set about making this place my home.

Figuring that my mule would do well enough for itself finding its own food outside of the valley, I didn’t worry too much about widening the tunnel at first. I felled a few of the trees growing on a hill and built a small house near the stream, although up a bit on ground that would be more secure in the case of a flood (the memory of my recent flight resounded within me as I made my dwelling). That took me about a month, including the time I took to furnish my little building with a table, two chairs, and a bed. I had also taken some larger, flat river stones and built an oven with them. I don’t want you to think, however, that I was all set to live there within the month, however. I was still some ways away from a sustainable existence there: I had no regular supply of food (there were no fish large enough to eat in the stream), I could not begin any sort of agriculture – I had not the tools, the seeds, nor the know-how to properly farm anything – and there was precious little to hunt. All of this which you see, the signs of a productive community (of one), are the result of years of trial-and-error, as well as careful knowledge- and material-gathering.

At that time, I dared not to dream of anything built of stone. I knew, perhaps, that I would have to replace the wood every century or so, but I did not think that the Valley would remain undiscovered for a long enough period of time to allow me to establish anything more permanent. Even now, I think that was the wise decision. If I had attempted to build with stone from the beginning, everything would have taken much longer, and I would not have been able to leave when I did.

After two months, I had completed my two-room house, an external food cellar of sorts, and an outhouse. Satisfied with these things, and feeling that I had tarried long enough (I had remembered that I was on my way to my little village), I left the Hidden Valley and gathering my trinkets and (much decreased) supplies, and loading them back onto my mule, I set out once more for Balnor, this time following the stream as it flowed, eventually, to the Addelstann. I was careful, however, in addition to memorizing the way to the tunnel, to leave small markers of the way, markers which I alone would understand. I had always understood that I should only reveal the location to a select few, and even then that I should be most cautious, for it would only take a careless word or two to give away my refuge and shatter my solitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now Andonikos has the platform from which he will launch both his own adventures and those of his students.
> 
> Also, I don't really have much of a concept of how long stuff like that would take to build, so please forgive me if I'm way off.


	9. Second Kalatians

When I came within sight of Balnor, I found an armed caravan leaving it, headed in the direction of Kalatio. I entered the hamlet, immediately sensing a very depressive feeling pressing down on me and everyone else constantly. Nobody would greet me, let alone look me in the eye, and I was overcome with concern. I rushed to the town hall, hoping to find Jonathan. He was not there, however, and I then raced out of the hall, down the street, and into the tavern, leaving my mule at the town hall. Fortunately, Jorgen was there.

“Andonikos! You’re back!” he called out upon seeing me there.

“Aye, I am. I have a mule with gifts for the village at the town hall,” I replied. “Where is Jonathan?”

Jorgen’s face fell at my question. He hesitated for a good minute before answering me. “Jonathan in prison. He was arrested about a week ago, on charges of sedition.”

“What? By the governor?”

“Aye. The same clerk you buggered off came with a much larger guard, announced the charges to the people, then dragged him out of his home as he was eating supper with his family.”

“That’s not right! Tell me everything you know, and I’ll see what I can do,” I urge.

“Well, the charge was something about inciting the countryside into open revolt, with possibly a bit about defecting to another city-state. But Jonathan’s no fool, and he certainly didn’t mind Kalatio’s overlordship,” Jorgen informed me.

“I know. I was next to him almost the entire exodus, if you recall. Do you think they took him directly to Kalatio?”

“I don’t know where else they might’ve brought him, so probably.”

“Alright. I’ll go rescue him. In the meantime, who is in charge of the village now?”

“I am,” Jorgen told me.

“Ah, very good. Do you have any able-bodied people available to build a palisade? If it comes down to it, even a palisade is better than open field leading right into the town.”

“Yes. Planting season is almost over, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find enough men for a work gang or two, more if the women help, too.”

“You should ask for their help as well. The more manpower, the faster the defenses go up. I suppose it would be too much to ask for if I were to request a watch tower on the road to Kalatio?” I inquired hopefully.

“That would be too much. I can’t afford to waste time, men, or material on something like that. Besides, the people wouldn’t understand the necessity, and a defense that defends only grudgingly is halfway to defeat.”

I liked this side of Jorgen. I knew he was a thinker, having learned it from experience during the Exodus, as the villagers called it, but knowing that he could read people made me very thankful that I could entrust the preparations to him. Of course, I sincerely hoped that my attempted jailbreak would not provoke a retaliation against Balnor, but I also figured that chances of getting off free were slim to none.

“You make a god point, Jorgen. Do as you see fit. I will go to Kalatio, and do my best to liberate Jonathan.” I was about to leave when a thought struck me: “oh, you may have the mule when I return with it. Everything it is carrying is to be distributed to those who need it; I will unload it at the front door, here, as I’m leaving.” And with that, I exited the tavern, unloaded the mule as I said I would, and then began my return to Kalatio.

An hour or so before dusk, I stopped to rest in a small copse of trees, made my supper, and prepared for my rest. That night, I had a vision.

_I stood in the midst of a plain, with small, rolling hills and tall, yellow grass stretching away on every side. Looking around, I saw a stone, but nothing else. I moved toward the stone – moved, for my legs did not move. Inscribed on the grey stone were letters of gold, reading: “To Protect and Uphold.” I saw the image of a sword, and then it all turned to black._

Upon waking up the following morning with the memory of the dream, I knew that I had been chosen by Theodoros Megalarion, King of the Gods, Overseer of magic, leadership, and justice. The Arcane Master was telling me that I was to be his servant in this world, lending huge moral support to my self-proclaimed mission. Knowing that Theodoros had called me would drive me toward success, even if it made no impression on anyone else.

After I had been on the road again for a handful of hours, I stopped for lunch by a small creek. Having prepared everything for my meal (some slices of cold meat and a piece of bread), I looked – by chance, I thought – across the water to find another… being… a little ways off, on the other bank.

He was as tall as I, perhaps a little taller, with short, jet black hair that fell to just below his equally dark eyebrows. He had no facial hair, only a shadow where a beard would go. Even from this distance, I could see his blue-grey eyes. He had an aura of command, such as one gets when one gives orders and has them obeyed, and I was certain that I was in the presence of a powerful being. He wore purple robes trimmed with gold, and held a scroll in his hand. Seeing the scroll, I knew for sure that this figure was Theodoros Megalarion himself, come to visit his humble servant.

_“You’ve seen gods in person?” Bahman asked in complete awe._

_“Yes, my dear dragonborn. I have seen many gods in person, and not all were under as pleasant circumstances as this particular meeting,” Andonikos replied._

“Andonikos,” he said, stepping forward from under the trees I had first seen him under. In the light, I realized that he did, indeed, have a beard; it was kept well under control, as I should have expected.

“Yes, Lord?”

“I have watched you from afar, and I have decided that now is the time for me to make myself known to you. I have not been particularly hands-on in my dealings with mortals for some time, and I can see that you all need some help.”

“Yes, Lord. But where does your servant fit into this mess?”

“You will be the keystone of my grand plan. I will not order you not to fail me, for failure is inevitable. The Law is not always blind. However, if you are a good and faithful steward of my trust, then you shall be rewarded.”

“I understand, Lord. But why now? Why me?”

“It is not for you to ask these things. Know, however, that everyone and everything was and will be created for a purpose, and that gods can do things mortals cannot comprehend. Remember the sword in your vision.” With that, he vanished in a flash of light, leaving me free to continue on to Kalatio.


	10. Imprisioned

I continued on my way to Kalatio, in shock of having been within thirty feet of a deity. The meeting had filled me with confidence, and I was resolved to succeed or die trying. Of course, I very much disliked the idea of dying, mostly because I told myself that I had so much to live for. There was, however, that fear of death that grips all people, no matter how old. I simply told myself that I should do all I could to avoid death, because that would solve all of the issues that would naturally follow from my death.

They say that a man with nothing to motivate him is useless. I tend to agree with them, for there have been times where I felt bereft of purpose, and during those times I did no good in the world, instead devoting myself to idleness. I am not beholden to anyone save for myself and the gods, and the gods, if they cannot control us, respect our right to choose. I have chosen the path of righteousness, but I have also oftentimes stopped to rest along the way.

Please forgive my digressions. The path of my life is only straight in that it is a chronological progression. I have turned aside onto many tangents, and my speech, it seems, does the same.

I arrived in Kalatio a day and a half later, entering the city and wandering about, thinking of how I might effect a jailbreak. As I walked along the streets, I was accosted by two halflings in dark cloaks after I passed an alley that led toward the city walls. “Greetings, stranger,” the first said. I could see curly blonde hair peeking out from under her hood.

“Good afternoon,” I replied. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, in fact, there is something,” the other (this one had black hair) said, quite aggressively, if I might add. He pulled out a halfling-sized rapier. As he moved, I saw a brooch fashioned in the shape of a mouth with lips closed and pressed together in a grim line. Looking at the other, I noticed that she wore an eye-shaped brooch. I knew then that I was dealing with members of the Knives in the Dark, a criminal organization that had cells in almost every major city. I didn’t understand how the Mouth (a middle-rank member) had gotten so high up if he wore his symbol so openly. The Eye I could understand.

I decided to play along, just for a little bit. I wouldn’t let it go too far, and I would keep a close eye on both of them. “What do you want from me?” I asked, allowing a little tremor of fear into my voice. And then I realized: there was a middle-rank member of the Knives in the Dark holding a sword to me. I might be somewhat powerful, but not _that_ powerful. It suddenly became much easier to pretend to be afraid.

“Nothing much, just your money, your sword, and anything else you have that might be valuable,” the Mouth informed me, almost nonchalantly.

“My sword?” I asked, incredulous. “Are you sure you need that? It’s very important to me,” I explained, trying to keep calm.

“Well, we were already planning on taking all your other valuables, so I don’t see how you could get away with keeping your sword,” the Eye said, taking a step toward me.

I backed into the alley that I had just passed, drawing my sword and preparing for the worst. The Eye attacked me with a scimitar, giving me a slash across my left arm as I tried to deflect the blow. Anger flaring up inside me, I did not think of what I was doing, and I decapitated the Eye without remorse. The Mouth stared at me, then fled. Mere minutes later, the city guard arrived, finding me on my knees before the dead halfling, wishing that I had stayed my hand.

Thus it was that I found myself in prison. I had been stripped of my Defender, my Belt of Dwarvenkind, and my Glamoured Studded Leather. In short, they took everything that I had, giving me some filthy, flea-ridden clothes to wear. I was then shunted into a jail cell to await my trial, which I was sure would be very short, and would consist of my being introduced, my crime being listed, and then being sentenced to death. All in all, it was a process I had a vested interest in avoiding. I was pleased to find that they placed me in a cell which also contained a very grumpy dwarf. His name was Gundren Nylund, and he had been accused of a crime he did not commit. I believe that it was embezzlement of state funds. Anyways, we decided to orchestrate a jailbreak.

In the middle of our planning, we were given another accomplice: a young half-elf was roughly thrust into the cell. His name was Delan, and he had been caught pickpocketing a few of the wealthiest citizens in Kalatio. Gundren and I took him under our wing immediately. I learned from Gundren that Jonathan (“some village elder”) was being held a few cells down, and I convinced my new-found allies that we needed to rescue him as well.

Our objectives figured out, we hunkered down to hash out a workable plan. Delan was a very charismatic young fellow, so we appointed him as our sweet-talker. Gundren and I would provide the muscle, and if we needed any firepower, I was ready for action with my spells. I shall give you a few details of our plan, such as I remember them:

We would entice the guard to walk over to our cell, then I would use Shocking Grasp to stun him. We would take the keys, liberate Jonathan, then the four of us would bluff and/or fight our way into the guardroom, where they store all of the prisoners’ personal effects. Once there, we could say that we had been inspecting the jail, and were just on our way out. There was just one problem: we weren’t sure if it was day or night, for the jail was partially underground and had no windows. If it was night, we would have to find a place to hide for the night, and leave when the city gates opened for the day.

We waited a few hours for things to settle down in the prison, then we put our plan into action.


	11. Liberty

There is a certain quality, which nearly every being possesses, a quality which can be taken away, trampled upon, and utterly broken. My children, that quality is liberty. It is a terrible thing to take away the liberty of a free being, and it has been my mission, to a large degree, to rectify such grievous wrongs. With that in mind, you can understand why I was so eager to free Gundren, Delan, and Jonathan with as little delay as possible. In retrospect, things might have gone better had we waited for at least a day, but what’s done is done. I will freely admit that in the moments of desperation we went through, we did some reprehensible things. That I am not proud of. But perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. Listen and judge for yourselves.

Delan pretended to have fallen ill – he possessed a remarkable ability to vomit on command – and by the second round of upheaving had the guard scurrying over to see what exactly the problem was. As the blonde-haired man soon found out, the problem was his existing in the general locale of the prison, and I corrected his mistake, being careful not to electrocute him past the point of no return, for I neither wanted nor needed another murder on my conscience. Gundren took the wrought-iron keys from the guard’s belt, unlocking our cell and completing our first objective. Things went as well as could reasonably be expected until we freed Jonathan. After I had encouraged him to leave his cell, we turned to leave that area of the jail and found that everybody else wanted to be let out as well. As you can imagine, liberating all of them would have brought utter ruin to our plan, designed for only a few people as it was. We left, then, to a bit of an uproar from the remaining prisoners, a collective shout that prematurely alerted the nearer guards to our escape. It was their way of saying “if you will not let us escape, we will ensure that you cannot, either,” and it saddens me to this day.

Abandoning all hope of a stealthy escape, we bolted down the hundreds of feet – too many feet – of the grey stone passageways, turning and racing through, until we reached the outer guardroom. There, waiting for us, was perhaps half the on-duty garrison of the prison: a dozen heavy-set men, not so well armored as the guards of the city, but far better equipped than we were (hardly a surprise, considering where we had been just moments earlier). I pushed Jonathan behind me, and was heartened to see Gundren protecting Delan in the same manner. Although I was afraid of the imminent death of either myself or one of my companions, as well as the failure that would result in such an outcome, I nodded briefly at Gundren and threw myself at the guards, closing the space between us and summoning a Sword Burst with a flick of my wrist.

The spectral blades took out one of the three men closest to me permanently, and stunned the other two. Turning away from them, I vaulted onto the table in the middle of the room, scattering beer mugs as I ran over to the weapon rack on the far side of the room. I took several punches and some minor sword wounds on my way across, but nothing debilitating, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gundren pick up the sword of the man I’d just killed, and engage with the guards. By the time I made it to the weapon rack, we were both in rather poor shape, and I summoned another Sword Burst to clear my immediate area – bringing down another two guards – as I pulled my sword from the rack and slashed the throat of a third. Gundren knocked out one and killed two more, suffering a broken nose in the process, which bled profusely. The one of the remaining three ran at both me and Gundren, while the third, sensing weakness, grabbed Jonathan and shouted for us to stop, his sword across Jonathan’s throat.

“Drop your weapons!” The man shouted.

Gundren and I shared a look, one that said _We don’t have time for this_ , but we dropped our weapons anyways. I was thinking furiously about how to kill that man without harming Jonathan, and nothing was coming to mind just yet.

“Now come over here!” The guard ordered next. “Slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them!” He smiled as he saw the helpless glance Gundren and I shared, probably relishing in the power he held over us in that moment.

We made our way past his two companions and over towards him, still think of a way to turn the situation around before the rest of the guards figured out what was happening. As we walked, however, we saw the most remarkable transformation appear on the guard’s face. He seemed to almost turn green, as if seasick, then yellow, and finally collapse on the floor, his skin sunk in on his face and his muscles deteriorated, before dying there in front of us. Gundren, Jonathan, and I all looked around in shock, then saw Delan hiding in the corner, gazing at his upraised hands with a look of horror.

Returning my attention to the immediate issue – the two remaining guards – Gundren and I killed them swiftly, capitalizing on their own shock at the turn in events. I then tied up those who had been simply knocked unconscious, then had everyone collect their confiscated equipment, and we left the guardroom, Delan still in shock. I figured that it was probably one of his first uses of magic, and most likely the first time he had ever killed anybody with it, so I resolved to talk to him about it once we were free of this place. Until then, however, we – I especially, as the mastermind behind the plan – needed to focus, otherwise we could very well find ourselves being prepared for an execution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Two_ chapters today! I had written half of this chapter about a month ago, and as I was feeling inspired to write today, I decided to finish it, as well as the chapter of _Selentikan Conquest_ , so check that out if you haven't already.


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